


Bubble bubble, bathtub trouble

by ximeria



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bubble Bath, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Gender or Sex Swap, Humor, M/M, Making an Effort (Good Omens), Male Aziraphale (Good Omens), Male Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 13:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: It's just supposed to be a nice little soak in the bathtub (Crowley's fault) and Aziraphale spends quite some of that soak contemplating feelings he may or may not have (also Crowley's fault). And because apparently one can't think about Crowley without him sauntering in the door, things get a little heated, genders get a little bent and Aziraphale gets a lot more than he's bargained for (absolutely Crowley's fault).





	Bubble bubble, bathtub trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meinposhbastard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinposhbastard/gifts).

> On genders in this one: Aziraphale sees Crowley very much as the gender he presents. If he's female, he becomes she. Aziraphale himself, however, is a bit slow on changes in himself, and even in a female form, he thinks of himself as 'he'. This may change in the future, but knowing Aziraphale, it might take a few centuries.
> 
> This is a gift, because Meinposhbastard not only beta'ed this, but also planted the seeds.

Decadent.

It was the only way Aziraphale could describe it. And it was partly Crowley's fault. Much like he wished he could blame most of his hedonistic tendencies on Crowley. Not all of them, though. But this one…

He watched the bubbles foam and dropped his huge, fluffy bath towel on the chair next to the clawfoot tub, setting his glass of white wine on the small shelf next to it. The tub could definitely be blamed on Crowley. He'd taken one look at Aziraphale's small apartment above the bookstore and offhandedly suggested a few changes.

The fact that the tub, standing on the old wooden floor,[1] was more than big enough to comfortably fit two adults with more than enough room to move, was not something Aziraphale lingered on.

As he dipped a toe into the hot water he took a deep breath. There had been a time where he wouldn't have dared listen to Crowley this closely or even let him into the flat he rarely used. But since the World had failed to End, they'd spent so much more time together, and the lines that they had always tried to keep clear had blurred quite significantly.

To the point where Aziraphale was very aware of them heading down a road that never failed to let a herd of butterflies loose in his belly.

He sat down slowly, feeling the bubbles part around him, the hot water almost making him moan. He had to give Crowley that one. Nothing would ever be quite as good as the Roman baths had been, but this ...bubble bath thing came close, was almost, well, heavenly. If Heaven had been lovely and warm and covered in a sea of foam [2]. Perhaps he should feel a little bad about that thought, but he'd experienced so much more over the millennia and all the while heaven had gone from warm and welcoming to rather cold and clinical.

He wasn't saying it was wrong, it just wasn't him. The way he saw it, both Crowley and he had gone a little native. How could they not have? They'd both seen and done so much that was inherently human, how could they not have marvelled at some of the things mankind came up with?

Including bubble baths.

Aziraphale leaned back and the warm water flowed up over his chest. Yes, this was nice, this was comfortable and as he relaxed, of course his mind decided to work on a more current problem.

Well, problem. It wasn't really one.

It was more like a natural progression of things. More specifically between Crowley and himself. And the butterflies were back. This time they'd brought friends, it seemed. Aziraphale smiled to himself, his eyes sliding shut.

He might as well put a name to it. This 'thing'. This _attraction_. It felt like such a simple term to use for what was between them, what _had been_ between them for a long time. Even if Aziraphale hadn't been willing to put words or even thoughts to it earlier.

He'd feared to draw any kind of attention to it, lest Heaven or Hell might notice and use it against Crowley. He'd never given his own safety much thought. The only worry there was what kind of trouble Crowley would get into without him around [3].

However, Aziraphale decided that he would not linger on things that were no more, or things that might come. For now, it seemed, Heaven and Hell were leaving them alone. They might as well enjoy what little peacefulness they were offered. And until anything changed, it would also mean allowing themselves to navigate and explore their attraction.

There it was again, that pleasant tingle in the pit of his stomach. Aziraphale smiled to himself. How lovely this thing his earthly vessel did whenever he thought of Crowley. There was something else, at the core of his soul, that did little loops whenever he thought of or saw Crowley. That one was the absolute love that he had for the demon.

One might argue that as an angel, Aziraphale would have been created to feel love for all God's creatures, but there was that kind of love and then there was the love that he felt for Crowley only. And that was deeply tied to familiarity and the kind of love where one had to know the other to the core. And coupled with the physical attraction that he now allowed himself to acknowledge…

Well, it was a foregone conclusion, really.

He did love Crowley, deeply, bordering on madness at times [4]. He could see that now, could put words to it.

Aziraphale opened his eyes and poked at the bubbles. Watched one, then two of them pop.

The thought of losing Crowley sent a shiver down his spine, a coldness that even the hot bath couldn't quite dispel. But it hadn't happened. The Apocalypse had been averted and they had gone back to their regular lives, sans orders from Above and Below.

Aziraphale wasn't sure how Crowley felt about it, but he, for one, quite liked not having to run from one end of the earth to the other, on the whims of Heaven and its bureaucrats. If he knew the demon right, he wasn't exactly lamenting the lack of orders either.

He reached over and took his glass of wine, taking a sip. It was nicely cool and as he put the glass back on the shelf, he watched the soap bubbles mix with the condensation on the side of the glass.

Maybe it was about time to move this infatuation onwards? To act upon it? The question was more along the lines of how and when, really. Aziraphale was well aware that they had both conditioned themselves to never let a touch linger for too long, to never look at each other for too long. Even if Aziraphale had broken this part more than once, he knew, he knew so terribly well. And when he had, he'd dragged poor Crowley down with him. He knew this, he'd seen the way Crowley would get lost much like himself and Aziraphale had been aware that he would have to be the one to break off any such moment, because Crowley couldn't.

There were no words for how much it hurt to do so every time. And it had been his own fault, every time. For all he would blame Crowley for small things, like taking him out for dinner or lunch, or for suggesting that perhaps a nice bathroom with a tub and some bubble bath would be nice, the transgressions of Aziraphale's were harder to excuse.

He knew that he'd probably have to be the one to take the next step. He'd stopped them so often that he didn't think Crowley would even consider being the one to open this one.

"You go too fast for me," Aziraphale mumbled to himself, cringing at his choice of words. There was no mistaking what he'd said, how he'd said it, for anything than what it had been. "If we'd gone any slower a garden snail would have overtaken us," he mumbled, sliding further into the soapy water, only keeping his nose and eyes above it.

But it was how it had to be, the question was, how did they break the habit? Now that there was no Crowley's side and his?

"Angel, you up here?"

Aziraphale froze in his contemplations. He swallowed the first instinct to yell 'No!' because that would just be stupid. Then he considered-- no… maybe, well…

And of course he took too long to answer.

"Well, hello angel," Crowley said, leaning against the doorframe. His glasses were pushed down enough to reveal the amber eyes and his hip cocked enticingly to one side. In his hand was a bottle of red. "Started the party without me, did you?"

Aziraphale put one foot against the end of the tub, intending to push himself up, but the foot slipped and he ended up with his head under water [5].

A moment later, strong fingers closed around his arms and hauled him up into a seated position. Or rather, tried. Apparently, like a mark from fate herself, a patch of soapy water ended up right underneath Crowley's shoe and a second later, he toppled down into the tub as well.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale grappled for him, and finally managed to get him upright, the glasses lost somewhere and the always well coiffed hair flattened by the water.

"I'm okay, angel, sorry, sorry," Crowley sputtered as he righted himself and drew back to the other end of the tub. He looked like a drowned something. His fancy clothes were clinging even more to his skinny form. "I have to admit that wasn't quite how I'd imagined this." He cleared his throat and turned his head a little, a light flush colouring his cheeks.

"I, oh-" Aziraphale managed, finally catching up to what Crowley had just said. Up until this point, all he'd been thinking about had basically been along the lines of 'Oh dear, oh dear, he's in my tub and I'm naked!'. "Not how… you'd… imagined?"

Crowley coughed and shrugged. "I saw you in the tub and kinda intended to maybe…" he drifted off and turned his head enough to meet Aziraphale's eyes. He looked more than a little embarrassed. "Well, if you must know, I sort of thought about slithering into the tub in snake form. I know it's stupid-"

Aziraphale felt more than a little hot all over, because that mental image? Was most certainly doing things to his libido as well. It wasn't just having Crowley in the tub with him. All he managed was a small 'meep' sound, but apparently it was enough to grab Crowley's attention.

"You-" he began, now staring at Aziraphale, unblinkingly. "I mean, you wouldn't have minded?"

Aziraphale felt like his whole body was blushing and he slowly slid down a little further.

Apparently it wasn't far from thought to deed for Crowley, because a moment later a large snake slid through the water, along the side of the tub, pushing its way around Azirphale's waist. It was firm, warm and smooth and made Aziraphale want to pet it. But it moved too fast and slipped under his knees before it slid up between his thighs and as it rose from the water, the body widened and scales flickered and became skin.

Quite. Naked. Skin.

Naked skin with soapy bubbles sliding down over shoulders and chest like the most obscene thing ever.

All Aziraphale could do was stare. He tried twice to lift his hand and touch, but he couldn't. Too much perfection.

Crowley looked down at him with the confidence of the original Tempter of Eden, and then he frowned. "Hey, angel, you alright?" he asked, leaning forward to steady himself on the edges of the tub, a hand on either side of Aziraphale's head.

A move that brought him even closer to Aziraphale.

"Aziraphale-" he began.

At this point, Aziraphale had had enough, and while he didn't trust himself to say the right thing, he knew he could _do_ the right thing. Or at least whatever came to mind. And at that very moment, what came to mind was framing Crowley's face with his hands and pulling him down to kiss him.

Crowley nearly lost his grip and they might've both ended up under the bubbles if he hadn't done what he'd done so many times before; trusted in Aziraphale. In this case Crowley let him take his weight and he let go to slip his arms around Aziraphale's waist.

The wiry feel of Crowley's arms, the naked skin against his own, made Aziraphale draw in a quick breath. The warmth blooming in his chest as said arms tightened around him was the most incredible thing he'd ever felt.

It nearly made Aziraphale's heart break apart. Always so quick to bend to Azirphale's whims. Crowley might complain and grumble, but he flowed like water around Aziraphale's rocks, always fitting in where he could.

Always for Aziraphale. And stupidly he'd always pushed Crowley away, held him at arm's length. How had the demon not given up long ago? Tenacity, thy name is Crowley, Aziraphale thought.

What he couldn't say before now, he pushed into the kiss. Let his lips fit over Crowley's, let his tongue slip inside the heat of his mouth. Moaned deep in his throat as he felt the split tip of Crowley's tongue carefully meeting him halfway, almost shyly, until Aziraphale sucked lightly on it, feeling the surge of Crowley's body through the water as he tried to push impossibly closer to him, the water sloshing high enough to go over the rim of the tub, and Aziraphale couldn't care less.

Waterstains could be miracled away later. For now he was more busy feeling the brush of skin against his own, of Crowley's mouth fitting so perfectly over his own.

For a moment he thought Crowley was trying to pull back, but he realised that he was shifting, his sinuous body, while human, still remembering its serpent shape as he twisted and managed to maneuver himself into a position that left him seated across Aziraphale's lap. A move that sent a wave of want through Aziraphale, the pressure on his erection too much and at the same time not enough.

The fact that Crowley was as into this as he was, only made Aziraphale dig his hands harder into shifting muscles. He could feel the coiled strength of the serpent underneath the water and soap slick skin. Some days one might look at Crowley and think he could be broken by a stiff wind, but not like this. There was a strength and fierceness to him, no matter what shape he took on.

And they were all dear to Aziraphale. They were all enticing to him. Begged for him to touch, to look, to taste.

The kiss gentled and Aziraphale found himself gasping for unneeded air, face close to Crowley's staring up at him. His eyes were shut, his hair plastered to his skull and he looked utterly broken and beautiful.

"How much wrong have I done you, my dear?" he whispered, heart contracting as he heard the hitch in Crowley's breathing. "You are always willing to follow me even when I make you wait for millennia." 

"Well worth the wait, angel," Crowley replied, probably going for humour, but ending up far too earnest.

"Open your eyes and look at me," Aziraphale demanded. He could have begged, he could have asked, but the way Crowley's eyes shot open and focused on him told him that he'd done the right thing.

"Didn't think you'd get turned on by a big ol' serpent in your bathtub," Crowley joked.

"Oh, my darling tempter, you have numerous shapes, but I must impart a secret to you," Azirphale replied, nipping at Crowley's lower lip.

Crowley's wide eyes went half shut and the tip of his tongue slipped out to touch the very same spot. "Do tell," he whispered back.

"I find each and every one of them enticing and tantalizing. No matter what you choose, you captivate me," Aziraphale said, brushing his lips against Crowley's.

Crowley shivered but pulled back a bit, giving him a shrewd look. "Even Nanny Ashtoreth?" he asked, lips quirked in a half-smirk.

Aziraphale was well aware what Crowley was playing at. If he could, he'd make Aziraphale blush. He'd always taken great joy in doing so. However, that was then, this was now. And for the sake of truth… "You may have gone for severe governess, but I can assure you I found you alluring and tempting. In truth, rather titillating in your sternness."

Crowley just stared at him. The flushed colouring of his cheeks wasn't only because of the hot water. And said hot water was slowly getting hotter.

"Crowley, dear, while I like my baths hot…" Aziraphale said, wanting to stop him before the water might begin to boil.

"Then don't just tell me such things," Crowley replied, voice uneven, blinking a little fast, like he'd suddenly remembered that he had eyelids and what they were for.

"Ah, but I feel I have a lot of catching up to do," Aziraphale said, not even trying to hide his smile. "I intend to tell you everything I should have told you in the past. How lovely you are, regardless of the shape you take."

"I always thought-" Crowley said, then stopped, raising an eyebrow as he suddenly grinned, his body shifting and changing just enough that Aziraphale didn't have to look to know. "I thought you preferred the male body." His voice had gone softer, lost some of its usual coarseness.

"I can appreciate the female, and as I said," Aziraphale said arily, if a bit breathlessly, as he slipped his hands from Crowley's back to his now slightly wider hips. "I find you attractive in every form."

And just because he could, and knew Crowley had only ever seen him as female once, he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He didn't often do this, but it was a bit like what the humans said about riding a bike, wasn't it? It was all about sense memory. His own body changed slightly. He might have favoured the male body for millennia but there was something to be said about the softness of the female [6].

It was a strange feeling of his straining erection vanishing and becoming more of a thrumming centre of pleasure and expectation.

A moment later, he opened his eyes again and sighed. "Really, Crowley?" It wasn't that he minded… but.

Crowley met his eyes, delight making her look almost maniacally happy. She had one hand braced on the soft slope of Aziraphale's shoulder while the other was cupping one of his breasts.

"I've never seen you in this shape out of a dress, you know," Crowley admitted, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the swell of flesh in her hand.

Aziraphale shivered. In retaliation, he slipped a hand down between them, unerringly finding the right spot, slipping his fingers through water and along skin, fingertips skimming through coarser hair and between heated layers of skin.

Above him, Crowley made an ungodly noise, let go of both shoulder and breast to grab the rim of the tub. "Angel!" She sounded almost scandalized. And perhaps more that a little impressed as well.

Aziraphale refused to be goaded, and he reached up to put a hand behind Crowley's head, urging her to bend her neck so he could kiss her.

Where the previous one had been hot and tight, this one was open mouthed and sloppy. And as Aziraphale sucked on Crowley's tongue again, he pushed two fingers between the labia, rubbing lightly from bottom to top, making sure to not put too much pressure on the clitoris.

By the way Crowley was trying to desperately climb him, he knew he was doing it right. What he might not have in experience, he had in theoretical knowledge when it came to collecting erotic works.

Humans really were quite clever.

Teasing two fingers inside the incinerating heat of Crowley's vagina, Aziraphale pushed his thumb upward to press harder against the clitoris.

And he would have never even imagined this moment with Crowley.

She broke their kiss, hissing and cussing him out, eyes half open as her body strained upward while she pushed her pelvis forward for more, always more. "No-not very angelic," she gasped, white teeth sinking into her lower lip as she keened deep in her throat.

Aziraphale slipped his other hand around her waist to steady her. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the display. This was his doing, his fault that Crowley was coming so very undone. By his touch.

He felt her clenching around his fingers and gentled the circling of his thumb. Aziraphale could barely blink as he watched her ride out the tremors of her orgasm. He side-eyed the edges of the tub and raised an eyebrow as he looked at the indents from where her fingers had gripped the metal.

Crowley sank forward and rested her head against Aziraphale's shoulder. "Don't be smug, angel, it's not a good look on you [7]."

Aziraphale huffed out a small laugh. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" He carefully pulled his hand out from between them, flexing his fingers.

Crowley lifted her head and glared at Aziraphale without any real heat. She licked her lips and Azirahale could not quite look away from the forked tip of it. And he most definitely hadn't hidden it well enough because Crowley's eyes narrowed and her sated look turned downright evil.

"My turn," she said with a wink and all but slithered out of his lap enough to push his thighs apart. "Good thing I don't need to breathe."

Aziraphale stared rather dumbfoundedly as she disappeared between his legs and he felt himself slip a little further into the tub.

"Oh dear," he managed to mumble before felt his labium being delicately parted by Crowley's fingers. For a moment he was focused on her lovely back and bottom sticking up and out of the water. And then it was all he could do but hang on.

Quite literally. With a shout, Aziraphale flung his hands up and over his head to grab the rim of the tub.

If she had cursed him out while he’d brought her off, it was nothing like the praise he was hoarsely shouting in her name. Well, with a few curses as well, because there was nothing angelic about the forked tongue slipping inside him, far deeper than a human tongue would have ever managed. And then she obviously decided that pulling back and sucking on his clitoris would be the right revenge.

"Fiend! Serpent," Aziraphale gasped, eyes sliding shut without him having any control. "Good Heaven, don't stop, please, dear, darling demon!"

It was the most exquisite torture he could have ever imagined. And he'd read, oh he'd read, but he'd never imagined the sweet edge of painful pleasure it would be. As his orgasm spiralled out of control, all he could do was dig his fingers harder into the rim of the tub and hope he wouldn't discorporate. It felt like his own earthly vessel would not be able to contain the sheer magnitude. And the last thing he saw before his world momentarily whited out and he lost all sense of reality, was Crowley rising from the water between his thighs, like Venus rising from the sea [8]. Water cascaded off her red hair and narrow shoulders, down over her breasts and belly.

It took a moment or two for Aziraphale to catch the breath he really didn't need, but very much wanted and he unclenched his fingers from the metal rim of the tub. He didn't have to check to know that there were an identical set of imprints there to the ones Crowley had made earlier.

"La petite mort," Crowley mumbled, from where he was lying cradled by Aziraphale's legs, head resting on Aziraphale's shoulder. And he was very much back to his male body.

A little went a long way and while Aziraphale was quite pleased with his female form, he felt perhaps some habits were hard to kill. With a soft sigh, he let his body return to a shape it was more familiar with.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him and rocked his hips enough that there was no mistaking the erection rubbing against Aziraphale's thigh.

"Insatiable beast," Aziraphale muttered fondly.

"Pot, kettle," Crowley mumbled with a small laugh as he tilted his head back enough to kiss Aziraphale when he bent his head forward for just that. He drove the point home by teasingly brushing his hand over Aziraphale's own erection. "But I think maybe in a bit, in your bed?"

It was so endearingly softly and hopefully asked that Azraphale almost wanted to cry.

"Of course, my dear," he agreed. It wasn't like the bath was getting cold, of course not, but he had ideas, things he'd like to do to Crowley when he spread him out on the soft tartan quilt of his barely ever used bedroom. It was, much like the bathroom, one of the better things that Crowley had insisted on him getting. Perhaps exactly with this in mind.

"Besides, I think half the water from your bath is on your floor now," Crowley sniggered before burying his face against Aziraphale's neck and it became an outright laugh.

Aziraphale made a face and pinched Crowley's side, making him jerk and possibly splash more water onto the floor. Yes, the bed and spreading Crowley out on top of it was sounding like a brilliant idea.

The End

* * *

Footnotes:

1This was perhaps not the place for a vessel full of water, but what were a few water stains to an angel's miracles?Return to text

2Lying down in a bubble bath, the bubbles could, strictly speaking, look like clouds. An old-fashioned arty way of seeing Heaven and nothing like what Heaven really was like.Return to text

3He wanted to shake him, yell at him, hold him, protect him!

In short, it was much the same emotions that Crowley felt around Aziraphale, like the two ineffable idiots in love that they were.Return to text

4This is the point where someone should point out to our angel that he is in fact the one that tends to get into trouble on a regular basis and thus in the need of a rescue. Though in this case it might be more important to wonder what kind of hell Crowley might raise should he find Aziraphale removed from Earth, by either Heaven or Hell.Return to text

5Now, the following wouldn't have happened if it wasn't because both were idiots and apparently forgot that neither could drown as neither needed air.Return to text

6He still saw himself as much as a 'he' as a sexless angel could, but that didn't mean he couldn't match Crowley physically.Return to text

7This was an outright lie, of course. Smug looked very good on Aziraphale.Return to text

8In truth, to Aziraphale at least, Venus had looked like a drowned rat in comparison.Return to text


End file.
